Midwinter Day Dream
by girlwithangelwings
Summary: Hermione x Peter, with a little bit of Shakespeare and Greek mythology.


**A.N. So this is the first real crossover I have ever written, don't judge me too harshly. I was just watching "The lion, the witch and the wardrobe" and my brain wouldn't let go of this. Lemme know what you think! Love, girlwithangelwings  
**

 **Midwinter Day's Dream**

The counting slowly faded away as the boy stepped into the massive, man high closet, closing the door behind him.

"..nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!" his eldest sister yelled.

He smiled and pushed further between the fur coats that smelled like mothballs. His hands were stretched out behind him, testing how far he could go as he still faced the door, eyes trained on the strip of light. He was surprised as to how far the closet seemed to reach.

Suddenly: a boot on the floor, stumbling backwards, his head hitting the cold floor.

The hubbub of the Great Hall grew fainter the further she walked away from the castle. Finally some peace and quiet to enjoy the winter wonder land she had been looking forward to ever since the first snow flake landed yesterday evening. This was the first moment she found away from her fellow students and Head Duties in an entire week. It was almost Christmas and as much as she looked forward to going to the Burrow and seeing her friends again, who were both training to become Aurors, she knew she would hardly get some alone time there.

She clutched her book underneath her arm and wrapped her golden-and-red scarf tighter around her neck, tipping her head back to better inhale the sultry winter smell.

Suddenly: a blond boy, tripping over own feet, falling head first into the snow.

Before even wondering where he was as he got up from the cold mass sticking to his behind, he moved to the girl he had seemed to knock over just know.

"So sorry, miss. Are you okay?"

He grabbed her elbows and tugged her to her feet. She was tiny and lighter than he expected, considering the massive amount of hair resting on top of her head, so he yanked harder than necessary. As a result, they toppled over again, her landing on top of him this time, faces mere inches apart as she quickly caught her fall with her hands. For a moment they were both to flabbergasted to move, just staring into each other's eyes, melted chocolate brown meeting ocean blue, before eyes started wandering across faces and both though the same thing: "Oh my."

She was the first one to gather her wits and scrambled off him as quick as she could without falling over again.

"Sorry. Hi. Are you okay?" she rambled as she extended a hand to help him up.

She frowned at the sight of his lack of a cloak, scarf or basically any wintery clothing. No tie indicating a house either. Where _was_ he from?

He took her hand, small and soft wrapping around big and calloused, sending tingles down her spine.

"I'm fine, I think," he said with a smile playing around the edges of his full lips.

"You think?" she asked as she freed her hand and leaned down to pick up her book.

"Yes, I just - "

She stretched again, brushing snow off her book and behind as he looked around in confusion. Something told her he didn't belong here. Was he a muggle?

"I hope you don't mind me asking, miss, but where exactly am I? And where did my closet go?"

"Your closet?"

Her brows met each other in a V as he nodded. He might be handsome, but he also seemed like a nutjob.

"You see, I was playing hide-and-seek with siblings as they were bored and I hid in a closet and then all of the sudden, I find myself here: in a snowy landscape with a castle I have never seen before, pushing over the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, whose name is unbeknownst to me."

She felt herself blushing furiously even as he failed to make sense to her and probably even to himself. Somehow, the closet and the unknown place didn't even seem to matter.

"Hermione, Hermione Granger."

He smiled again, showing perfectly straight, white teeth.

"You were rightfully mine, from a long time ago," he solemnly said.

"Excuse me?"

Her eyebrows shot up and he laughed.

"Hermione was only child of king Menelaus of Sparta and Helen of Troy. She was promised to Phyrrhus, the son of Achilles. It's a quote from the Odyssey."

He just stood there, smiling sheepishly, quoting the Odyssey to her and flirting with her and all she could think was that an angel fell down on top of her. She had never been flirted with before, Ron never saw he as more than a friend even if she had been desperately in love with him.

"I love Homer," she softly said, shyly curling her lips upward.

"I take a great liking for him as well."

He took her hand again and pressed a kiss to its back.

"An honour to meet you, Hermione. I'm Peter."

His manners and way of speaking were a bit odd, as if he was much older than the seventeen years he seemed to be. He spoke like her grandfather, who used to tell her about the second world war and his cuckoo neighbouring professor Kirke.

"You too."

"What are you reading?" he asked her, nodding towards the book in her arms.

"Oh, Shakespeare's collected works. I'm currently reading Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind. And therefore is winged cupid painted blind."

She couldn't stop her grin and felt a little wobbly inside. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out a line from Puck, almost automatic.

"And all is mended, that you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear."

As she said that, suddenly she felt dizzy. She reached out to grab on to his broad shoulders for support, but her hand went straight through him. He looked at her with shock as her hand wasn't capable of touching him.

 _No!_ she thought as she fell to the ground, her vision going black.

"Hermione!" he was almost unable to find his voice and when he did, it came out sluggish.

He brought his hand up to rub his eyes, closed them and then failed to open them and no matter how hard he rubbed, she was gone.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, it was still dusky around him, but he could make out a fur coat and a strip of light. His head felt heavy and he was on the floor of the closet. He sat up slowly, brought a hand up to his head and felt the bump forming there.

The closet door was yanked open and Susan grinned at him.

"Found you! Next time you should make less noise if you don't want to be found, Pete."

Found? Oh, hide-and-seek. So that was what happened. He fell, he blacked out. He dreamt.

The first thing she heard when she opened her eyes, was Draco calling out:

"Pomfrey, I need some help here!"

She still felt dizzy as she was laid down on a soft bed, but she could see the Head Boy's worried face next to her.

"Oh Merlin, I am so sorry, Granger. Zabini and I were flying broom and I didn't see you and, and, and…"

"Where is Peter?" she whispered desperately.

"Peter? Who is Peter?"

"The boy who was with me."

"There was no boy with you, Mione. He must have been a dream."

Draco gave her one of his scarce smiles. Hermione swallowed heavily but managed to smile back.

"He was then. A midwinter Day's Dream."


End file.
